True Colors of the World
by Bethy1416
Summary: AU - A twist on the Blue Bird ending. What if Lisbon hadn't been persuaded to stay by Jane's endearing words? Will be quite angsty, something I've not really tried before. But hang with me!
1. Prologue

_A/N: __I just want to thank Charline ( wellthatslucky) on Twitter for providing me with the original idea for this fic. I have now joined the dark side with her, as I surprised myself by enjoying writing this._

_Warning: there shall be angst, as well as upset. And a happy ending is possible, although it depends how I'm feeling when I write it. This is a multichapter fic, and I can't promise updates will be regular. Anyhow, enjoy this twist on things!_

**_Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist, nor do I make money from writing this._**

**Prologue**

Jane sat in the padded chair, his injured ankle elevated on a seat opposite him. He'd done the thing that scared him most, played his cards, and now he just waited. This was the first time since he'd met the tiny, kickass agent that he was unable to predict what she'd do. She'd moved on and had prepared herself for a fulfilled life with Agent Pike. Jane knew he should've supported her and urged her to go, it'd be good for her. Instead he pulled some crap by digging up an old case just to give him time to grasp his act together. It hurt him to remember the ample times she'd given him to say his true opinions on the ridiculous dream world she'd wrapped herself in. She knew just as well as he did that you could only experience so many dates in a month, not to mention sacrificing her well respected position in the FBI along with the team and friends she'd grown to trust, all for the first man that had shown interest in her when she needed company most. Jane genuinely believed she harbored respect for Marcus, but love? He wasn't so sure.

The TSA officer looked pityingly at him before leaving the room, clearly baffled by why this man had felt the need to illegally board a plane to admit these clearly relentless feelings to a woman who had already given up on him. Jane had told him the truth, so there was no doubt this question was running through the officer's mind.

That's when he heard the soft click of the door opening, dragging him out of his thoughts with a hazy gleam in his eye. She drifted to the chair opposite him with a swift shrug of her shoulders to remove her coat, and then seated herself down with grace he'd never seen from her before. She seemed particularly isolated, lost. They simply sat in silence for a few seconds, both trying to build the confidence back up to get their words out. She fiddled with the strap of her bag, watching him intently for a sign of regret, but she saw nothing, just a cave of a lonely man.

"Say something…" He muttered, shifting his eyes back onto her. He was afraid to look at her in case he read something he didn't wish to believe…

"I'm sorry…" She began, gently. He nervously nodded his head, as he'd done in the hospital not long ago when Lisbon had told him about Pike's offer. He understood.

"I'm not holding you to anything here, Teresa. I can't offer you the life he's providing you with, I can't meet the expectations you deserve."

She stilled her hands that were moistening in the palms.

"We need to move on, Jane." Her voice was dry, as if tears had soaked up the usual sweet tune in her words. "Both of us."

"What if I have? What if you're how I move on?"

"There are too many 'what ifs.'"

"I'm not going to force you to stay, but you need to know things. _Please_, give me a little time and privacy to share them with you?"

"The delay will be cleared in an hour, there's no time."

"Please?" he begged, leaning on the table. "Hear me out. I'll let you leave if you still want to."

She shuffled closer and bent her head so she was at eye level with him. "I've given you enough chances and enough of my time, and don't you dare think I need your permission to leave," she hissed, the icy tone stinging with every syllable.

"I didn't mean it like that, Teresa. You know I didn't."

"Just know that I have spent all I can give to you. This was the final straw, Jane, and you took it."

"Fine, just listen to me! I'll take one minute, maybe less! You can time me."

She leant back in her chair, and crossed her arms.

"I had to tell you how I felt; I couldn't handle the idea of coping with these feelings alone, constantly building up. You know the saying; absence makes the heart grow fonder. The thought of not seeing you scared me. Petrified me, even. My heart has not been exercised in this way for over a decade, and it scares me to consider that this longing ache could swell beyond my capabilities. I'm willing to risk it, if you won't accept me, I _understand _if you won't accept me, but I just had to know. Now that I do, I can't hold you back anymore, you're free to go whenever you please… I merely hope you believe me… Do you?"

She hesitated, letting his words process in her brain. It frustrated her that he hadn't said this earlier in the planning of her move to DC. She'd given him so many chances, so many moments to say it. She'd been too harsh with him a few minutes ago, she knew that, and yes, she did believe him…

"Yeah, yeah I do…" She whispered, almost inaudibly.

"But it hasn't changed your mind?.."

She restrained the misty glaze in her eyes from trickling over the edge and he knew her answer when her dark fan of lashes dabbled her cheeks to cage the tears.

"It's okay…" he reassured her. "I'll always be here for you though, don't forget that." He offered a saddened smile, which she mirrored. She nervously glanced at the table and then started pulling on her jacket.

"Bye…" She murmured, and then got up to leave, abandoning him in the TSA office with his forefinger anxiously tapping his upper lip.

Things weren't the same, and he doubted whether they ever would be again.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

It had been ten days since Lisbon had left, her delayed flight rescheduled and actually leaving Austin the second time round. As he'd feared, her absence had forced his heart to contract every time his thoughts latched onto her. The thing that scared him most, however, was that it had_ only been_ ten days and it was already hurting this much. He'd weakened to the self-pitying state he'd vowed with himself that he would never reach again. Yet here he was.

The team had acknowledged that Lisbon leaving was going to hit Jane hard. He'd perhaps request time off, isolate himself or put on a poker face. Instead, his work ethic had strengthened, his mind only wandering when he was sat on his couch; or so they thought. The truth was, he wanted to prove to himself, Lisbon, and the team that he could still close cases without her. Plus, he needed to learn to cope with it sooner or later, he still had at least another four years working under the deal him and Abbott had drawn up, the nearest to an exoneration for the murder of Red John that he was going to get.

The out of work hours were the most difficult to handle, surprisingly. He was alone, meaning he had time to think and silence to fill with his thoughts and pain. He'd always been awaiting, expecting, a call from Lisbon, telling him about a new case or updating him on the evidence they'd gathered. Now, his cell never rang in the evening. It wouldn't ring at all if Abbott and Wylie stopped notifying him a few times a week.

When he'd confessed his feelings for Lisbon, he'd also confessed them to himself. Saying them aloud had made it real, it was no longer a simmering affection that he could ignore. He'd meant everything he'd said on the plane. He was terrified and he couldn't imagine not seeing her everyday... Even whilst currently living it, he couldn't.

As the eleventh day dawned, he threw the comforter aside, as he'd been waiting to do for at least two hours. Sleep was rare. He slipped on his suit jacket over the disheveled shirt and left his Airstream. From there, he crossed the parking lot to the main doors of the FBI glassed building. He'd moved the Airstream there in the past week, finding it easier to settle at night with the hum of traffic fighting away the silence that swallowed his thoughts. Abbott had agreed to it, as had Director Schultz, who both claimed it meant he wouldn't be late to work again with the benefit of keeping an eye on him. Of course, Jane knew Abbott had linked this sudden rearrangement with Lisbon's departure from his life and the team, and neither him nor Schultz questioned his motives.

He was preparing a cup of tea in the break room when Abbott approached him.

"Jane," Abbott greeted, standing near the island in the middle of the kitchenette.

Jane's lips drew into a thin, shallow smile. "Abbott."

"How are you?"

"Perfectly well." This was a repeated conversation that he had with members of the team on a regular basis now.

"Good… Then my news shan't come as a dreadful surprise…"

He took a sip of the bland mix he'd just brewed. "And what's that?"

"Agent Samia Porter shall be joining us today. She's transferring from the FBI field office in LA."

"She'll be replacing Lisbon?"

"Yes, she's on a two day trial period."

"You're unsure, or she's unsure?"

"The director is unsure. Porter hasn't worked in a Department of Justice unit before, we need to see how she takes it."

"And you'll know in two days?" He said, a hint of judgement in his voice.

"We'll have a better idea as to whether her training and experience is suitable for the role here."

"Very well." Jane shifted, making it clear he wanted to leave.

"Jane," Abbott said again. "You two will often find yourselves in the field together."

"The problem is?"

"There's no problem, I just wanted you to know."

"Well, thanks for plenty of notice," he exclaimed sarcastically as he walked out the door to meet his couch.

Abbott remained, shaking his head with a smirk at the consultant's remark.

When Jane had comfortably positioned himself on his couch, settling the saucer on his lap with a long finger still hooked through the cup's handle, Fischer edged towards him.

"Jane," she smiled. He reluctantly held back the need to roll his eyes as the scripted sounding conversation started again.

"Kim."

"How're you today?"

"Well."

"That's good… good… Abbott spoke to you?"

"Indeed."

"How're you feeling about the new recruitment?"

"I'll get back to you on that one," he said as he stood and strode straight past her. She frowned, confused, then spun around to see that he was speaking to someone in front of the elevator.

"I'm Patrick Jane," he introduced, holding out his free hand for her to shake. "You must be Samia Porter?"

"Yes… How did you know?"

"I recommend not asking that for the simple things. Wait until you're really hung up on something, then bank it in."

"I'm sorry?"

He waved his hand around for a few seconds, trying to summon the right words to describe his confusing nature. "I have a tendency to… be a little excessive. Hurl around some hunches and accusations. Nothing to worry about. Just think about things before you ask questions, no doubt you already know the answer." He sighed. "I can see we'll get along just soundly."

"Agent Porter," Abbott interrupts, appearing beside them.

"Dennis Abbott?"

"Yes. Let's go to my office." He glanced a warning glare at Jane, before returning his gaze to the pretty faced agent with a smile. "I'll lead the way."

They both walked off down the corridor leaving Jane stood on the unit's emblem printed onto the floor. He looked down at his feet, catching a glimpse of his handmade socks from Washington and turned to step into the elevator.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Abbott and Porter were walking side by side to his office when she summoned the courage to speak.

"Agent Jane is a member of your team?" She asked gingerly, having not figured out whether her boss was someone to which you could ask questions.

"He's a consultant on a contract with the FBI, I was nice enough to take him in," he turned his head to smile at her with the hidden humour in that response.

"I feel there's a story behind his recruitment then."

"You could say that."

They continued walking, now in a comfortable silence until they reached the door with his ranking and name inscribed on a plaque, slotted into the metal holder.

"Please, take a seat," he gestured, closing the door behind them. "I hear you've worked a case with us before?"

"Yes, Sir. In my rookie years I worked the Hutchison case. The unsub was transferring documents linked with terrorist plots to a man named, Lee Ahmed, who at the time resided in Texas. We brought you in on the case to help catch them before any plans went underway. The operation was a success and only a minor threat, but we were unsure if, or when, it could spiral into something bigger."

Abbott had settled into the chair behind his desk, listening intently. "I remember hearing about that case. A SWAT team took them down."

"Yes, Sir, accompanied by some of your agents."

"They weren't my agents at the time, Porter, I can't take the credit."

"It's still an honour to work with you here, and with the FBI, Sir."

He huffed out a laugh, amused. "You're aware of the work we do then? As I'm sure you can imagine, things can get pretty hectic."

"Like with any unit, Sir."

He smirked at that. _Any unit that doesn't have Jane has not experienced chaos._

"Do you have questions?"

"The agent I'm replacing… Teresa Lisbon. Is there anything I need to know about fitting into her role?"

He'd hoped she'd find out about Jane herself, his troublesome ways and mostly illegal schemes.

"You want the truth, or a few hours of sugar coated facts before the hard faced ones are revealed ?" He joked, receiving a nervous smile from the young agent.

"Tell me the important stuff, the rest can be sugar coated until it's thrown in my face." They chuckled, him more understanding of how true that statement will become.

"Okay… Well, Lisbon and Jane transferred here together from a corrupt law agency in Sacramento a few months ago. They'd worked together for a long time before that and she was the only one that truly had a handle on him. Sometimes I questioned whether he even listened to anything the rest of us said. She somehow managed to control him, a trick I have yet to learn. He's been laying low the past couple of weeks since her transfer, so I believe you're safe from any of his misbehavior for now. Agent Cho, who you'll meet in due course, is also a member of our team. He used to work on Lisbon's old team in Sacramento, along with Jane. So at least for your trial period, we'll palm Jane off to Cho when out in the field. You'll be fine, I can assure you. But any trouble with him, report back to me."

She seemed a little uneasy, perching on the edge of the leather chair, but enthusiastic. "If my trial period goes well and I'm permanently transferred, will I be working with Mr Jane in the field?"

"There's a large possibility, but things could change. As I said, Lisbon was the only one who seemed to have any impact on him, that's why they were often partnered. Now she's gone, we'll probably have shifts to babysit him, oh joy. He's currently dealing with her leaving, but he seemed to warm to you, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about, Agent. Anything else?"

"No, Sir. I'm ready to start."

"Great. Head back to the bullpen, the rest of the team should be there. Acquaint yourselves and hopefully a case will come in soon."

"Yes, Sir."

She got up, walked to the door, pushing back her shoulders, and braced herself for the next two days.

Jane had decided to take a stroll. He didn't know why but he'd craved fresh air. He wandered around aimlessly for a good half an hour, his teacup and saucer still in hand, then went to his Airstream. He thought about Samia, with her slightly naive gaze and pinned back brunette hair. She reminded him a lot of Grace when she had first joined the CBI. Porter seemed to have more experience, more cases filed in her head than Grace did, but he could tell Grace would have the upperhand with technology. Porter's trimmed nails suggested guitarist or pianist, which fitted the elegance she carried. Her hair was straightened, then tied up, did she naturally have a head of gentle waves or corkscrew curls? He pictured her with both, then settled on an unruly mess of meandering locks. She was youthfully attractive, definitely looking younger than she was. He pitched mid to late twenties. Lack of makeup, sturdy boots with a slight heel, yet a height just above average. He didn't delve into predicting her history- there appeared to be a lot- because he already knew she would mention stories of her past the more she grew in comfort around the team.

He prepared a fresh cup of tea in the Airstream, hoping the open air had awakened his taste buds and this brew would be more flavorsome. He took it with him outside, where he unfolded a lightweight, canvas garden chair on the concrete of the parking lot and watched the busy hub of agents. That's when he truly got to thinking; schemes and plans; imagined conversations filled with false hope; Marcus and Teresa.

As he'd wished, this tea offered a taste to please his palate and unsettled stomach. People often referred to this uneasy feeling as "butterflies" in your tummy, but in all truthfulness, it felt like a small snake was nestled in his pit, its tongue fluttering at regular intervals. He felt weighted, with streaks of adrenaline passing through him when that snake's forked tongue tickled his insides. He wasn't sure whether the adrenaline was of excitement or nervousness for the selfish thoughts he'd just concocted. He couldn't do anything yet, he had to gather some more information before making hypotheticals reality.

* * *

Lisbon was settling nicely in DC. Her and Pike had arranged the furniture in their simple reside. He mostly agreed enthusiastically with what she said, she wasn't sure whether it was to make things easy, or because he shared a similar decor taste as her. It was practical, rather than homely, and she was certain it was something that just took some getting used to. Besides, they wouldn't be spending that much time at home, given their devotion to their new jobs. By the end of the first week attending the DC offices, she felt like Marcus was just a roommate, not her partner. Either he was working, or she was. If luck was on their sides, they'd greet each other over the kitchen island in the morning with a quick peck before hurrying out the door with a breakfast bar in their hands.

Pike worked in a different department to Lisbon, so at work she was void of familiar faces. She didn't make a fuss. She knew he was in the same position as her, and he wasn't complaining, plus she was used to being independent. But this was the first time in nearly two decades that she'd been recruited on a team where they were all strangers. Joining the FBI was a big leap for her, even though she didn't make it out to be. The FBI. It received far more recognition than the CBI ever did, every movement was tracked, it felt like. On that team she already knew Cho and Jane. She knew they had her back. Now, she didn't trust anyone, with time she would come to have faith in her colleagues, but not yet. Even with her independence outside of work for all those years, to suddenly be thrown into it on the job too was the scariest part of the entire move. She was completely alone. Her home life wasn't particularly familiar either, even if Marcus was there. Is this what Jane had felt like for years? Returning to an empty motel room, to repeat the same damned routine everyday. Is this how her life would turn out? By the end of the year, was she to be caught in a vicious daily cycle?

She was surprised however, by how easy life was to live without Jane. The two years he'd been away had mainly been taken up with getting over the idea of not seeing him again. Then the trouble started with the FBI, having to meet his terms. She was glad to be back with him, to see his unshaven face and the mischievous gleam in his eye. But she was finally able to appreciate the calm of two years without his troublesome plans. She loved his company sometimes, but he caused her so much hassle and pain throughout the years, she had lost the energy to keep dealing with his stupid stings and hunches.

Damn, even reminding herself of all the bad things he'd done she still missed him. Was he over her leaving now? It was almost two weeks later. She wasn't sure how she felt about his absence at this point. She knew what she was expected to feel; a sense of relief, a bit of loss and possibly a hint of a future. But she wasn't sure that's truly what she felt, even though she wanted desperately to believe so. She had a life with a man she cherished and who cherished and adored her. More than Jane could ever give. She remembered back to his surprise appearance on the plane. The slight limp as he was marched down the aisle by a security officer. The drained look in his eyes as she sat opposite him in the TSA room. She'd never properly looked into the gaze of a man in love. Nor had she ever dealt with that herself. What was it she'd seen in his eyes that day?

She'd fallen into a heavy daydream at her desk in the study, a case file's contents spread across the surface. Suddenly two hands rested on her shoulders, the thumbs rubbing in circular motions. She glanced to her left, already knowing the waist she'd be eye level with.

"Hey," she muttered.

"I'm home for the night," Marcus shared suggestively, leaning down to murmur into her ear.

Her shoulders slumped. "I've got to finish with this." She motioned to the paperwork.

With the atmosphere completely disintegrated by her lack of enthusiasm, he stretched back up to tower over her crumpling form.

"Are you missing him?" He questioned.

"Who? Jane? No."

"Then what's bothering you?"

She pulled away from his touch and swivelled round in the chair, leaning back into the padding. "Nothing. I-I'm just finding work… a little demanding. I'm fine, honestly."

He considered her response then decided to disregard the matter. "You eaten yet?"

"Uh, I grabbed a take out box of sushi on the way home. I'd assumed you'd be working until the early hours again."

"No problem. I'll fix myself some toast."

"I'll finish up here."

He nodded, watched her curiously, then turned and left with his arms crossed. She puffed out her cheeks and swung back to the desk. She picked up a picture of the crime scene, the body splayed on the baking concrete. The image beneath that was of the victim's face, the eyes staring straight down the camera lense, sending a chill through her soul. They'd wrapped this one today and had taken the file home to complete the case report. However, her thoughts wandered to the team she'd trusted and left behind. All for a man she'd known for weeks. _A month even._

Perhaps this was the reality she'd been refusing to face.

_A/N: This chapter's content wasn't particularly interesting. But things should start moving and become a little more intriguing in the next chapter, so please bear with me and this fic. It _is _going somewhere :)_


	4. Chapter Three

_A/N: Finally! I updated this. Things, plot wise, develop and hopefully get more interesting in this chapter. Sorry it took so long to update, I got writer's block for this fic, plus the finale caused my mind to spin when comparing this fic, to the beautiful nuptials of White Orchids! I hope this chapter persuades you to stick with me for this fic :)_

**Chapter Three**

Jane returned to the bullpen to inform Abbott that he was taking the next several days off. He caught the eye of the new Agent Porter, sat primly behind Lisbon's old desk, her leathered briefcase on the floor beside her.

"Samia," Jane greeted. He tilted his head to the side, trying to get a glance past the manicured persona, or act, as he soon figured.

"Mr Jane."

"Tell me… Piano or guitar?"

"Uh, well… both actually."

"Ah." He looked to his feet with a taught smile, one that didn't quite reach the creases of which held the memories of happiness and laughter. "But you're better at piano?"

"Grade seven."

"Wow, that's impressive. I'm guessing… your interests strayed before completing grade eight?"

"I began training at Quantico." She sent him a gaze of uncertainty as to where this was going.

"Where they toughen up citizens and create steel faced agents."

Her eyebrows furrowed together, disliking his stereotype.

"I'm just messing with you," he smiled, liking the reaction he got from her. "See you later." He twisted on his heel and walked away to find Abbott.

Jane wandered straight into Abbott's office, the open door being the only invitation he needed.

"Jane, what can I do for you?" the burly man asked.

"I've come to inform you I'm taking the next week off."

The agent leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together in his lap.

"Okay."

"Thanks," he said swiftly and headed toward the door again.

"Jane... Where are you going?"

"To my Airstream."

"I technically haven't given my consent for your leave."

He frowned and his thumb and forefinger started rubbing together. "Um… Yeah… May I take time off?"

Dennis paused, a silent acknowledgement of his request. "Why?" He then asked.

"Uh..." he paused, rubbing his thumbs together, evidently preparing to share some personal news. "My old Carnie bunch recently lost someone… They wished for me to join them for the traditional funeral ceremony. Plus, I've not had chance to visit them since a child was born into their family."

"I'm sorry to hear that..." the agent said sincerely. "I can allow five days leave, is that suitable?"

A bit miffed at the decrease of time from his request he nodded his head. "It'll have to be."

"Good… Well, give my sympathies and… congratulations."

Jane bowed his head with apparent gratefulness and turned to leave.

"Jane... If this is some cover for a plan involving Lisbo-"

"Dennis, why would I do that? I wish to visit the only family I have, who're mourning a loss. Besides, Lisbon can do what she pleases. Not everything results in my scheming"

"She was one of your terms. Now that she's gone, has the deal changed?"

Jane shook his head with a wide grin and laughed mockingly. "No."

"Good. Go. I'll see you in a few days. I hope this time off proves useful."

"I'm sure it will," he reassured and walked out the door with a little more life in his step than what he'd entered with.

He walked to the nearest main road and managed to flag down a taxi. When this plan got unearthed, cops were going to be all over his trail.

Jane was dropped off three blocks from his desired destination, trying not to leave any form of path. He purchased a taco to accompany his walk, which he lingered outside the glassed doors of the library to finish before heading in.

He crossed the children's section to reach the computers' area. He scanned the rows for an isolated spot, at least safe from prying eyes and then settled into a plastic chair beside an elderly local who was having enough trouble working her own computer to worry about his. Besides, he doubted she'd remember him if police somehow contacted her later in the 'operation.' Dementia, a bitter twist of old age.

He opened up the internet and typed in the department and DC offices Lisbon had transferred to, noting down the address on an expired receipt from his pocket. She'd not shared her new home address with him, most probably due to his lack of interest and changing of subject whenever she brought it up. He was sure she'd told someone on the team, probably Fischer, but he couldn't risk asking, nor searching it up on the FBI database. It was all too risky. People would see straight through his plan and stop it before anything had even begun.

That wasn't like Lisbon though… to leave without giving him any contact details other than her cell number. He considered the possibility that she'd left a note for him, hidden in a place only he would find it. This wasn't the first time he'd thought about her doing this. Perhaps she was sending him a letter, or building the courage to send a text. However, he was once again reminded about how they'd parted. A sizzling layer of anger just simmering under her surface, guilt and foolishness under his. She'd been generous enough to make sure she didn't leave with a bitter stab in their friendship, instead one of… he supposed, sympathy and embarrassment. That was something he could work with, something he could tease and manipulate into a compatible relationship, a masterpiece.

He snatched up the receipt then stuffed it into an inside pocket of his blazer and logged off. He then smiled sweetly at the frail old woman beside him and left the library as briskly as he'd walked in. He didn't care if they'd put an APB out on the Airstream if he went over his given time off. He just needed to make sure that they wouldn't figure out where he was, at least not before he'd gotten to the nucleus of his plan… a day more could be all he'd need. CCTV meant they'd track his moves to the library, find his search on their database and get him within an hour. That couldn't happen.

Once he'd returned to the familiar lot of the FBI parking lot he withdrew the Airstream's keys and jumped into the driver's seat. Everything had remained packed away and prepared for travel since he'd moved a week earlier; forward planning at its best. He started up the engine, signalled, then began the long journey down the twisted path of his future, plus the day long drive ahead of him.

Lisbon was stood in line in the bureau's cantine, wallet open preparing to pay for the jacket potato she'd just ordered. The catering system ran well, considering the number of staff they had to provide for. Select your meal, place your order, move on to pay, a waiter serving at each station. A clockwork scheme that'd please the likes of Jane. He'd often complained about the inconsequential layout of the FBI cafeteria, concluding with him either stealing her sandwiches from the kitchenette on their floor, or concocting his own in the Airstream. She shook her head with a smile, reminiscing about how the petty things always bothered him. Her turn finally came and she handed over a few dollar notes then collected a knife and fork from the cutlery station. She took her food over to a table beside the window and enjoyed the top story view of hefty buildings and busy roads, with a glimmer of the river in the far distance between trees, steeples and office blocks. She looked down to the street below as agents came and went, many with a trusty to-go coffee in their hands, much like the one in front of her now. Police cruisers lined one side of the road with intervals of black SUVs.

Granted, the view from the CBI rooftop cafe was far more appealing; with a clear sight across the homes and businesses, to the river slicing through the landscape and the bridge planted tall above the rest of the city.

Jane had been correct; there were no pelicans or sailboats in DC, but she highly doubted he'd be seeing those again any time soon when working in the FBI headquarters located just outside of Downtown Austin's rolling lands of the Texas Hill Country, the ocean past the horizon and miles still beyond that!

She finished her lunch and took her polystyrene cup of coffee down to her desk in the bullpen. She kindly greeted her boss on the way past, who nodded his head in return, then crossed the briefing area to settle into her chair. She caught sight of Matthew Adams, the technical analyst of their team, watching her. He was the first person she'd been introduced to, even prior to her chief, and had insisted on accompanying her on her first trip out in the field. It was merely an act of kindness, she'd done the same with Cho when he had first arrived at the CBI, Jane too, of course. Matthew consistently corrected her whenever she called him Adams, always preferring the agents to refer to him with his Christian name. He was slightly younger than Jane, by a couple of years she guessed and unfailingly turned up to work ten minutes early every day, wearing the same dress code: a pressed shirt, suit pants and shiny black shoes. To begin with the lack of tie and jacket seemed to hit Teresa like a tonne of bricks, having spent the first half an hour in the building with cloned men, each a replica of the last, attired with a full two piece suit, a neatly knotted tie and an orderly trimmed hairline. Seeing this slightly disheveled, but punctual member of her new team brought a huge wave of comfort to her. Perhaps that said a lot about her character and her past…

She returned his inquisitive gaze with a friendly smile, then set about doing research on the computer in front of her. A few brief moments later he appeared behind her monitor, waiting for her attention patiently.

"_Matthew_," she said, stressing his first name as she remembered his request. "What can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering if you've eaten? L-lunch I mean."

"I just got back," she winced, the disappointment ebbing onto his face. "Sorry."

"No problem, but next time we're going together. Nothing like some well mannered, good hearted conversation to accompany a meal."

"You mean you eat alone?"

"Why does that surprise you?"

She smirked, "Well… you always seem to want good relationships with your colleagues, a first name basis usually suggests that. I'm just surprised that you aren't swarmed with people."

"I'm very rarely sociable…" he glances down at his shoes, slightly embarrassed. At hearing her restrained giggle, as she tried to have sympathy for him, he lifted his head with renewed confidence and a smile stretching across his freshly shaven cheeks.

"You mean this office persona-"

"Is literally just an act. I have picky tastes with the people that I converse with on a personal level. You're one of the few."

"Well, I am honoured," she joked, which left them each with mirrored grins. "Come on," she stated, rising from her chair and collecting her coffee.

"Where are we going?"

"I'll come sit with you whilst you eat your lunch."

His expression flashed from flattered to shocked in a split second."Really?"

"Yeah! I mean, it's not like we're rushed off our feet."

"For your kind heartedness, _Teresa_, I shall purchase a blueberry muffin just for you!"

"How did you know?!"

"That it's your favourite? You're not the only trained professional. I notice you bring them back from the cafeteria..." He turned to her with an even bigger smile than before as they stood side by side in the elevator. She clicked the button for the top floor and remembered who this man so fondly reminded her of.

By the time Jane decided to bunk down it was midnight and he'd entered the capitol of Tennessee, Nashville, having spent just over twelve hours driving with only three toilet and tea stops. He was exhausted, but the thought that he'd be at his destination this time tomorrow gave him hope and the willpower to continue, not to mention the entire reason for him exercising this great task. He wondered how tomorrow's plans would go; smoothly would be too much to ask for, the Blue Bird Lodge case had proven that.

He found a quiet side road and pulled into a truckers' layby, cut the engine and heaved himself out of his chair. The soft padding seemed to have gradually morphed into stone throughout the course of the day, his thighs and bottom currently feeling rather numb. He stretched then strode to the small living area, forcefully patting his upper legs to try and regain some sensation. He prepared his insomnia antidote, a fresh cup of chamomile tea, an old trick that never seemed to work except these past few weeks. Perhaps a dash of hope with chamomile was the perfect concoction for the night restlessness. Whilst waiting for the water to boil he unbuckled and slipped the belt from the hoops of his pants, a new garment that was more than an accessory to his slimming waistline. He shrugged off his jacket and unbuttoned a couple more of the top buttons on his shirt. He glanced down at the thin cotton garment, fitted for his form by the stylish tailor from the sunny haven he'd resided in for two years. Maybe it was about time to break out the plainer fabrics or even indulge in purchasing some new ones. Although this shirt was only new a few months back, he did wonder whether its faint swirling print altered his impression on people. He knew Lisbon had accepted his new look; the stubbled jaw, summer shirts and lack of vest. But for an FBI employee no one had told him to sharpen his look. He found it peculiar to say the least.

The piercing whistle of the kettle shot through his thoughts and he continued making his tea. Once finally draining the last dribble down his throat he clambered onto the sheeted thin mattress and shuffled around until he found a position of comfort. Minutes later the long drive caught up with him and he dozed off into somewhat of a peaceful sleep.

He awoke to the harsh glare of the white morning sun and the slamming of the truck's doors of which he was sharing the layby with. He could hear the frantic hum of rush hour traffic and suddenly leapt out of bed, checking his watch. _Shit. _It was later than he'd planned to set off. He'd hoped he could make it onto the interstate before the city's streets got snarled up. He threw on his suit jacket, the fresh morning air sending rippling shivers over his body as he swiftly glided behind the steering wheel. He followed the truck out of the layby but swung out in the opposite direction, heading back to the busy centre of the city.


	5. Chapter Four

_A/N: Again, I shall apologise for how long this update has taken. I've just entered exam season, which finishes a week or so into June. So until then, I can guarantee you won't hear much from me on here. This chapter has been a long one in the making, and the true story begins from here on in, I just hope there are people still with me!  
I also don't want you to jump to judgement about either Jane or Lisbon. I warn you now, things may get a little more OOC... But Lisbon is not becoming a player, definitely not... Can't guarantee that Jane won't become a slight stalker though, haha. Anyhow, I really wish that I've not let you all down and I only apologise for any grammar/mistakes there are. Enjoy!_

**Chapter Four**

Lisbon slammed the car door shut and hurried towards the entrance of the FBI lobby, quickly throwing her hand above her head, pressing the car key and successfully locking the vehicle with a click.

She signed in at the front desk and decided to take the stairs to the third floor, after having seen the crowd at the elevators. She went up the shallow steps two at a time, only slowing her pace when reaching a landing to the next set of stairs. This was the first time she'd been late, she was still the newbie. She briefly paused before going to the bullpen, flicking her subtle waves over her shoulder, composing herself and then striding in feeling flushed. She smiled over at Matthew as he shot her a look of worry. She was unsure whether his nervousness for her was because of the wrath she was going to get from her boss, or because he'd feared something bad had caused her lateness.

She'd barely had time to shrug off her jacket before a briefing was held. Their team in DC had been asked to take down a suspect linked with a case from New York. The PD there were to be flying some agents in that evening to hold interrogations. They believed the suspect was on the run, so action needed to be taken fast if they were to catch him. NYPD had tracked him and pinpointed a precise location where they'd predicted he'd take refuge for dinner. Instructions were thrown around and plans were confirmed; they were to head out at six later today, all agents of the team to be present or official warnings would be given.

Jane sped down the highways hoping to reach the address scribbled on the receipt before Lisbon left that evening. Her work was the only place he knew he could find her. If he got there too late, he'd have to wait until the evening after.

He'd decided mid journey that perhaps the Airstream was not the most convenient of vehicles. For overnight journeys it was useful, but blending into the city would not come easy. He considered the options, weighing each possibility with a heavy amount of common sense. He decided there was no other choice, he'd have to locate a rental agency and hire a vehicle. Damn Abbott if he dared to tab his bank account. He'd been careful so far, leaving no trace… but he couldn't find another way, public transport was too untrustworthy.

He would have to risk alerting Abbott with a cash withdrawal for the success of his mission.

When Jane hit standstill traffic he retrieved his map and began scanning the veined terrain for a road that had an information centre pinned on it. He located a small 'i' logo that was ten minutes into the city's heaving streets and knew there was no going back, not now, and not without her.

Lisbon sat opposite Matthew at his desk in a compatible silence. Their team had taken orders from their boss to not accept a new case until the arrest was made later today; they couldn't risk a distraction. Apparently the team here were lacking a little where multi-tasking was concerned. Her thoughts flitted to Jane and what his opinion would be on this… he'd no doubt ignore these instructions, yet she was sure he would find a way to capture this criminal long before his predicted dinner time. She sighed, realising how unnecessary this whole situation seemed.

"Penny for them?" Matt asked, resulting in a startled hiccup from her.

"Sorry?"

"For your thoughts."

"Oh… no, no," she reassured, "just a healthy dose of nostalgia."

"There's an unhealthy dose?"

She smirked at how pernickety he was being. "I overslept," she stated.

"Okay, now it's my turn to be confused."

"This morning, I was late because I overslept. You've been pedantic with me for the past three hours-"

"I have _not_!" He exclaimed with a false tinge of horror.

"Your nose is growing, Pinocchio. It's fine, a nosy busybody has been missing from my life recently."

"I just wanted to know if something was wrong…" he pouted, giving her the puppy eyes. "You've not been late before."

"You always this contrary when you want to know something?" She chuckled.

"Not always…"

They each returned to their previous pastimes and her mind picked up where it left off; Jane. She wasn't sure whether she was glad of his absence in her life now, or whether it hurt that she'd not heard anything. He couldn't be blamed entirely, she'd not text, called or written. But _he_ was the one who could supposedly not live without her. _He _was the one who had confessed his love and _he _was the one who had been abandoned. She only thought it right that if either were to make contact, he'd give in first.

Thinking of his confession caused such a reaction that it frightened her, heat rising from within and making her cheeks flush fuschia.

"What are you doing?" She asked, leaning over the desk to look at Matt's computer screen.

"I'm… reading online," he admitted. He'd contemplated lying but saw no reason, she'd find out.

"What book?"

"It's a series of short novels," he began with confidence after seeing her open minded reaction. "I started them a few years back, then got distracted with my developing career. I found out a few weeks ago that they've been adapted into three episodes, each an hour long. I want to finish reading them before I see the trilogy in the theatre, this time next week."

"That sounds fun," she said, a little surprised by her own interest, as she wheeled her chair round to peer over his shoulder. "_The Death of Life_," she read from the top of the screen.

"It's a crime… Thriller… Comedy genre…"

She nodded, acknowledging his defensiveness. "What book of the series is this one?"

"Well actually, _The Death of Life_ is the title of the overall series… They just number the books, this is book two."

"You think you're gonna finish it in time for next week?"

He smiled and turned to look her in the eye for the first time during the conversation. "They're pretty short, the third one is only seventy eight pages."

"You're a big nerd at heart, right?" She grinned.

"Hardly!" He protested with mock horror. "I just enjoy my literature."

"You count this as literature?"

"Of course. The author wanted to remain anonymous, that's got to be rewarded with some form of lasting artistic merit!"

She bit her tongue to stop from making a snarky remark... or a comparison to her other stubborn bookworm. "Are these available in paperback?"

"So many questions, Agent Lisbon! But yeah, they are. You gonna give them a shot?"

"Sure, no harm in trying."

"Are you a quick reader?"

"If you mean quick enough to finish them by the premiere, then yes. Depending on work. Yes."

He raised an eyebrow, internally debating whether to ask her to join him. He knew of her blooming romance with the new chief in the art department, but despite his ability to judge a character, he was unsure whether Agent Pike was a man from whom one could obtain a black eye.

"Matthew," she said, dragging out the vowels in his name. "We're adults, _friends_, we can be trusted to go to the movies without falling madly in love with each other," she joked.

He sighed a pressed laugh and faced her with a relieved smile on his face. "Great!"

It was heading into early evening when Jane pulled up outside the DC FBI offices in a silver Chevrolet Cruze. The choice had been made on the simple judgement of "average". He wanted an "average" car and this was the first his eyes had latched onto.

The street outside the several stories high building was suspiciously empty. It was rounding on six-forty-five. He was sure Lisbon wouldn't leave until later into the night, and was also pretty confident that she wouldn't be the only one that dedicated to work. One thing he'd learnt after working alongside cops for over a decade was that they were either overly committed, or corrupt. That was a slight exaggeration, he knew it, but his conclusion for this ghosttown was that there must be a bust or investigating a lead going on. Just like that, the nauseating sea in his stomach returned. The one he got every time she followed up on a suspect, every time she flicked her wisps of burnished bronze out from underneath her kevlar, every time she unholstered her glock… He stayed seated in his vehicle and withdrew the map that he'd wedged between the drinks' holder and his chair. The receipt he'd written the address on in the library was pressed between two pages. He crumpled it up in the ball of his strong fist as he rested his chin against it, his elbow propped at ninety degrees on the window ledge. He'd wait her out…

FBI issued vehicles came smoothly gliding round the corner and onto the street, pulling up alongside the sidewalk. If his stubborn mind did believe in it then he'd have said it was a coincidence, or even fate. But, he did not believe in such things. He hoped, from his slightly disadvantaged view from the other side of the road, that he would be able to see her getting out of the car. He scanned the dozen or so agents exiting the vehicles, removing their bulletproof vests and heading for the main entrance of the building. From his position he could see the two glass sets of doors at the front of the HQ over the bonnet of a car. He caught sight of the straightened brunette locks he fondly missed, even if he did slightly prefer her natural curls and waves. She hurried forward to relieve someone of holding the door for her and greeted a man stood in the foyer, who definitely wasn't Pike. He brushed it off, it was nothing more than a greeting, a triumph for the perp they'd caught who was being dragged in in cuffs. He just couldn't get the image of Lisbon's arm slinging through this man's bent one, his hand wedged in his pants' pocket, out of his head.

He knew the drive had caused this apparent mental fragility. Lack of sleep and a long drive being the poison to his already frantic state. But he was here. Now, the real mission began. He leant back into the hard padding of the seat and waited her out. He'd done stakeouts before, time would not be an issue...


	6. Chapter Five

_A/N: Thanks for all your reviews on the past chapter! Exams are nearly over and I have a lot of free time now so I'm hoping that'll mean more writing, but I have a lot of stuff planned for the summer. This chapter is leading up to something that will happen in the next (hint: There is verbal contact between Jane and Lisbon). A short chap, but I didn't want to slip into filler paragraphs._

_Thanks for keeping up with my very irregular updates, it does mean a lot to see that many are still here :) Things will most certainly progress from here on in, I __**promise**__!_

**Chapter Five**

It was another forty minutes until her car arose from the underground parking lot. He almost didn't notice her, but the honking of a horn attracted his attention. As she pulled out in one direction, her slightly dishevelled friend from earlier slowed his car down behind her, then took off in the opposite direction, a companionable _toot toot_ to bid farewell. Jane ducked down as she cruised past his "average city car" and he hoped her keen eye for detail had switched off as soon as she left the FBI building, otherwise she could've easily spotted his familiar head of tumbling waves.

He casually fired up the engine and swung out into the road, making a sharp U-turn in order to follow a wee distance behind. He pulled down the sun shield in an attempt to discreetly cover some of his face, not wanting to be recognised without giving himself a chance to win her back first.

She stuck to all speed limits, although the main streets in the city heaved with traffic that restricted her from reaching such velocities. He reminisced about the times they'd joked about her strict rule-keeping on the roads; her response always being, "I'm too lenient with you," or, "I should arrest you right now for your excessive speeding." A small pocket of laughter puffed up his cheeks and spread a wide, blinding grin across his face. She never really liked his commenting on her "good Catholic girl" persona, changing the subject to his regulation bending, or more often than not, law breaking.

She was right though. She always turned a blind eye to his commanding schemes, never liking them, but still she kept schtum. She could have arrested him, had him sanctioned, or tried in a court of law. She could have locked him up to preempt his impending murder of Red John, but he guessed she knew better. Since his return from the island he'd not provided any answers for what had ultimately happened. But neither had he questioned her about the litigious mess he'd abandoned her with.

He followed cautiously at least a car behind her until they turned into a calm residential area, which is when he slowed to a block's distance; turning onto the street to see her turn down the next. When he reached the end of one road, he indicated in the same direction she had, only to then notice her car was gone. Without hesitation he swooped the car up tight to the side walk, tucked neatly behind a little red sports number, and watched down the street to see her get out the vehicle and collect her things from the backseat. She hooked her bag over her arm and rummaged around for her house keys, stepped up the few stone steps to the door and disappeared inside. He squinted in the evening colours to see what house number belonged to this quaint little place that she called home. He mentally noted her address, locking it safely in the room he dedicated to her in his memory palace; although that room was becoming more of a hall, cramming memories and information into every nook with each passing day of her absence.

He decided to risk a brief walk past the house, get a sense of the new life Teresa was living. The steps to the front door stood directly beside the sidewalk, and even though the temptation was nearly unbearable, he refrained from walking right up to the door and giving a sturdy rap of the brass lionhead knocker. However, he couldn't deny himself a satisfactory peep in through the window as he wandered along. It appeared to be the kitchen with an open plan living room set further back in the house. His heart contracted with fear and love as his eyes clasped onto one toned buttock, the navy blue jeans tightly clinging to her muscled thighs. She was stood facing away from him at a counter, he guessed she was preparing a lousy excuse of a dinner. He hurried past, not wanting to attract any attention from neighbors, and especially not from her.

It was a warm evening, she could tell tonight was going to be an uncomfortable and sticky one. The streets in DC trapped the heat, as they had in Sacramento, and probably in every other city across the world. She'd not stayed in a townhouse before though. It had always been a simple reside; Apartment or bungalow. The street she lived on had houses so tightly packed and towering so tall, similar to the other roads in the surrounding area, that it was like being a mouse lost in a maze.

She didn't deny enjoying the luxury of a four story home; A basement, first and second floor, and then an attic. But it morphed into a giant's castle when she was home alone.

She sighed and decided to begin preparing her supper, as she'd be eating companionless. She got out the few ingredients required for the common salad and set about washing the vegetables. The hairs on the back of her neck perked up, as if someone was watching her, but she put it down to the idea she'd had. She abandoned her cutting board and galloped across the room, jumping over the back of the couch to retrieve her cell from her handbag. She scanned through her contacts and paused at Jane's. She had gradually been building up the confidence to call him, see how he was, but now wasn't a good time. She scrolled a little further and pressed dial.

"Hello?" his voice answered on the other end.

"Matthew! Hi, it's me-"

"Hi! What's up?"

"You eaten yet?"

"I was about to order take out. Uh… d-did you want to join me? Or we could go somewhere else?.. Or something?"

"I don't care where we go but I crave food and company."

"Those are two things I can offer, where shall we go?"

"You wanna come here?"

"Sure," he replied. "Shall I get us take out?"

"You like Chinese?"

"Of course. Chinese it is!" he chuckled, earning an excited bubble of giggles from her.

"Great, I'll see you in twenty."

"Bye!"

They hung up and she hurried about getting plates and cutlery out ready for his arrival. She slid open the window in the kitchen to keep the place a little cooler in the humid heat and a gentle breeze came drifting through, drying the faint shimmer of sweat on her forehead. Why should she have to stay alone? Besides, she doubted Matt would be doing anything more exciting than reading those books they'd each been enjoying earlier today. He'd asked her about how she'd become a fast reader, pointing out that she didn't seem the bookworm type. She'd simply responded with a grunt and blamed having to study case files. But she knew it was down to the extensive amount of free time she'd had in Washington during Jane's galavant, not to mention the letters he'd sent her - worn from excessive reading.

Her companion turned up and she was not only grateful to see him, but also the bag of take out he carried. They didn't bother with plates, just ate half of each tub and swapped. He'd brought his copy of the first book of _The Death of Life _series for her to borrow. This spurred a conversation about the series and from there their chit chat continued on into the night.

Jane watched as the man - who he later found out was Matthew Adams, after investigating his car - entered Lisbon's house. He assumed that meant Pike wasn't there. He was pleased to see that Teresa had befriended someone, in fact she looked more content with this friend than she had with Rigsby and Van Pelt. He wondered why this was. Why she suddenly required a companion. He thought now that she was cohabiting, after living alone for the majority of her adulthood, she'd be in the most joyful chapter of her life since her mother passed. But apparently the reason she was happy was not down to the guy she was living with, but more the guy that she worked alongside. She evidently felt solitary here, Pike working long shifts due to his new demanding position in law enforcement. He could only estimate the amount of time they actually spent together, and it didn't look promising for their relationship.

Jane's mind was his own enemy at times, and tonight led to him taking a final walk past the house. He passed by the steps and carried along to the kitchen window. To his shock, however, he was given no chance to look inside as a figure cast a shadow onto the sidewalk. He kept his head low but to no avail as the man noticed.

"Evening," Adams greeted, leaving Jane no choice but to nod his head in response, continuing on.

"What?" He heard Lisbon ask from inside.

"Nothing, there was just a man," was the final thing he heard before the window was closed and he was out of earshot. Her voice had struck through him, charging his heart with power and he knew then that he and Pike weren't the only ones in the competition now, he'd have to keep his eye on this one too.


	7. Chapter Six

_A/N: I want to start by saying thank you all so much for your feedback in reviews! They are one of the reasons I keep writing - they urge me to continue!  
Exams are nearly over, so school is too! I'm hoping that means I will be updating more frequently, but I can't promise, I have a lot of projects to complete during the summer. _

_Here's the little conversation I promised y'all in my last A/N, and things heat up next chapter :D I hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter Six**

Lisbon sat in work the next day yawning as a result of her late night. Matthew had left in the early hours after several scenarios of him saying he'd leave, but then a new conversation being started. They'd both known that he should've left by the time it reached midnight, but they got distracted from their worries with another glass of wine and a round of trivia.

She chuckled when a to-go cup of coffee was slid across her desk and he slumped into the seat opposite.

"People are gonna start whispering," she joked. "Us both coming in looking like the disturbed dead."

"Speak for yourself!"

She rolled her eyes but drew in a large mouthful of coffee as he did the same. "Ugh!" He grimaced, sticking out his tongue. "I forgot sugar."

"I'll go get you some, as you got the coffee." She dragged her petite form out of the chair and headed to the coffee machine on the table in the corner. She picked up a sachet and headed back to hear her cell ringing. He held it toward her and goose bumps arose on her arms when she saw the caller ID.

"Here," she said, throwing the packet of sugar on the desk. "I'll be back in a minute." She practically snatched the phone from his hand and hurried to the back stairwell. "Lisbon," she answered casually.

"Hi," Jane responded. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Only fine?"

She didn't know how to answer this. Her stubborn side wanted to tell him to mind his own business, the side that ached for his company wanted to tell him everything, and the side that wanted to prove him wrong wanted to blurt out about how good her life was now.

"What do you want?" She eventually opted for.

"I just wanted to see how you are."

"I'm good, life's good."

"Good… good."

There was a moment's pause and she felt guilty for not being more polite, after all, she had _supposedly _broken his fixed heart. "How are you?"

"I'm drifting along."

"That's good."

"I miss you, Lisbon. A lot."

"Yeah, life is pretty normal without you," she chuckled.

"Is that code for, _you're a pain in the ass, get off the phone_, or, _I notice your absence in life_."

She smiled and didn't hide it in her tone, "It's code for I miss you even though you're a jackass at times."

"Ah, a compromise," he answered, a hint of contentedness in his voice. "How's the new job?"

"It's pretty quiet. There are more teams here, to supposedly ease the workload. It results in sitting around _wanting _a murder to happen. I mean, how sick is that?"

"Meh," he sighed, "I guess it gives you time to... make new friends, socialise."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Listen, I wanted to apologise…" he broached.

She intervened, knowing where he was taking the conversation, "It's fine."

"No, I shouldn't have put you in that position."

"Don't bring it up again, Jane. I don't want it to ruin anything."

"Okay, okay…"

"Let's go back to the way it was before?"

"Before I made a fool of us both?"

"Come on, it wasn't _that _bad!"

"Ugh, from my point of view it was."

"Don't make me feel guilty, it's just… It wasn't your best timing."

"You mean to say that if I'd approached the subject sooner, we may have stood a chance?"

"Jane," she warned.

"No no, you're right, I'll back down."

"I have to go," she replied anxiously.

"Okay, well it's good to know you're all right."

"And you. Bye…"

She hung up and propped the phone under her chin as she closed her eyes with embarrassment and self hate. She tried to figure out his aim of making that call but couldn't produce an answer that suited Patrick Jane's character and ego.

A few minutes passed before she tugged open the door and went back to her desk where a curious Matt awaited.

"Everything… okay?" He checked.

"Yeah, just wasn't expecting it."

"Who was it?"

"Uh…" she frowned, realising the reality of what had just happened. "It was a friend of mine from back in Texas."

"Patrick?"

"Did I tell you about him?"

"Briefly, one time." She bowed her head, still in a haze and not knowing what to make of the entire situation. "So… I don't want to be nosy, but I saw his picture on your cell when he called…"

"And?" she questioned, impatiently waiting for him to continue.

"Well… he's meant to be in Texas, right?" She nodded. "He's not."

"What do you mean?"

He twiddled his thumbs and glanced at her expectant face. "I saw him last night."

"But you were with me."

"He walked past your home. I saw him, I _spoke _to him, when I closed the window."

She stared at him, her rosebud lips parted at his news. "You'd had some wine, maybe it was a different guy."

"No… I'm pretty sure, Teresa."

"I'm sorry, I just don't believe you."

"Did you tell him your new address?"

"No."

"Where you work?"

"Yeah, he knew that but only because-"

"No buts, call your old boss and see if Patrick's there."

She pulled her head back, gazing at him as if questioning his reliability.

"Fine," she gave in. She withdrew her cell and called the Austin FBI headquarters where they'd then put her through to Abbott. When she reached him, he simply replied that Jane had taken leave to visit family in California. She relayed this back to Matthew who stated that the California trip could all be a cover, but she refused to believe him. If there's one thing she knew about Jane, it's that he was not a stalker.

Matt returned to his own desk and she started to doubt herself. She'd thought she'd known Jane well enough to know that his ego was too big to have even considered admitting such personal feelings. Was it completely impossible that he'd come up here to have a look around her knew city? Maybe he was staying at the townhouse-turned bed and breakfast a block down from her? That seemed a little too coincidental. She wedged her head in her palms and tried to nurse the niggling headache that was beginning.

Several minutes later she got up and went over to Matthew.

"You sure?" She asked. He nodded and she knew then that she trusted him and needed his help. She sat down with him and made it clear they were not to treat this as a case, just a friend assisting on a personal issue.

Jane had decided to take a look around whilst Lisbon was at work. He watched Pike leave the house about lunchtime, so he took his chance and guiltily ascended the steps to the front door. He picked the lock and swiftly darted inside, leaving no trace of his being there. He entered the kitchen first and had a quick scan of the contents in the fridge; simple ingredients for basic, easy meals. He'd assumed as much. He moved on to the living room, rummaged through the cabinet's drawers and found nothing of interest. He decided a quick nose around their bedroom would be of no harm and began to calmly climb the stairs… That's when he heard the faint rattle of a key in a lock. He spun round, almost losing his balance on one of the cream-carpeted steps and saw a figure through the frosted glass patterns in the door. He briskly lept up the steps in twos and pressed himself against one of the walls on the landing, cautiously peeking his head round the corner to watch the front door. Pike walked through the threshold and automatically looked up the stairs. Jane whipped his head back out of sight and tried to mollify his frantic breathing. He'd of course been in similar situations before, but this could potentially ruin _everything_.

"Teresa, just choose a restaurant and I will whisk you there for dinner tonight," Marcus said, seemingly amused by his fiancée's inability to make such a decision.

Jane panicked even more, _they were both home_. He slid his foot closer to the door nearest to him and grimaced as he transferred his weight; he could feel the floorboards threatening to creak.

"_Teresa_," Marcus persisted. "I don't care where we go, I'd just like the guarantee of a meal."

_He's on the phone_, Jane concluded. As he eased the door open it gave a quiet click, that usually, would go unheard, but in his current predicament it seemed to reverberate down the hall and back again. He had no idea what room he was venturing into until he'd reversed, then shut himself in. It was the bathroom. Not the best place to be, Pike could come up any second. Jane glanced around, trying to seek a hiding place, when his eyes fell upon a built-in cupboard. He elegantly tiptoed over in a hurry and nearly sent a laundry basket rolling across the floor in the process. He paused to listen out for Marcus' exit but heard nothing. Usually, he wouldn't fear confronting the owner of the residence he was snooping around, nor would he be searching for a cubbyhole to crouch in, but he couldn't risk it. He dragged back the screen to reveal shelves lining the inside of the cupboard. He shoved aside a boxed foot spa and a few stray towels on the floor and crawled into the compact space, molding his body into the corner. He then had the sudden afterthought of closing the screen, so he pushed himself up and tugged it shut.

He sat tight, his arms slung around his knees, pressing them to his chest. A few minutes passed and Jane could still hear Marcus on his cell, the conversation having moved forward from food and focused on work related stuff. Jane propped his head on his knees, pulling a lost puppy impression; sullenly turned down lips; eyes hopelessly scanning his confined area; droopy, puffed out cheeks. He was sure that if he wasn't able to get out soon, he'd start whining, too.

Several more minutes plodded by until a bellowing laugh erupted from downstairs, rapidly getting louder. Then the chattering subsided briefly as the bathroom door was flung open with a triumphant _bang_ against the doorstop.

"I only came home to get my badge, now look! I'm running ten minutes late! Anyway, Teresa, it's decided? We'll go to Lenny's, yes?" Pike asked into his phone, patiently sitting on the side of the bathtub. There was a muffled response and then he bid farewell with a few sweet endearments.

Jane would have to find out about this "Lenny's," assuming he'd get out of here before dusk. Pike unzipped his flyer and went about his business, being a gentleman and closing the toilet lids once he'd finished. If this was all it took to keep Lisbon happy, then Jane would go far beyond that. He expected this meal out tonight was a rare occasion, probably solving more issues than Marcus would ever admit to. Or maybe Jane's thoughts were just being spiked by the green eyed monster.

Whilst he waited to hear the front door being slammed, he thought back to the conversation he'd had with Lisbon earlier. It was the first time in weeks that he'd properly heard her voice. Just remembering the sound of it made him feel an enormous wave of guilt for what he was doing now. She was his friend, yet he had broken into her home and was poking about her personal affairs. It was as if his sane part of mind had only just engaged with his actions of the day. He'd called her, which for her, appeared to be completely spontaneous and with no real cause. But really, he needed to know what she felt towards him now. Whether her fury had subsided, whether she hated it here and wanted him to fly her back home… _home _with _him_. He'd warned himself to not get his hopes up. He knew Lisbon inside out, he could recall details of her that he didn't even remember finding out. And as he'd previously hoped she wouldn't do, she'd shut him out. Not completely. But she wasn't yet comfortable sharing things with him... had she ever been? He pondered the answer to this question. She'd always tell him stuff, more than he told her, but she rarely ventured into personal things. Maybe because she thought he already knew, or maybe because she didn't deem it necessary, or maybe… she just couldn't. Either way, it did jab at him. Niggled his mind, prodded his heart, peaked his intense desire for getting her back.

He would have reacted and done things differently today, had she been willing to declare her thoughts. He knew that wasn't Lisbon, though. And he didn't mind, he loved it in fact. It meant he could prove to her the extent of his feelings, the extremes he'd go to to have them reciprocated. _Utter crap_! He'd felt their adoration for one another blossom bigger and softer each day. She _did _reciprocate those feelings, he just didn't get to her in time...

_A/N: I hope that this chapter has fed your hunger for some Jisbon communication! Let's just say, that this was easing you into it... I'm writing the next chapter already and it's definitely picking up the pace! _

_Teaser: Jane gets the contact he so strongly desires with Lisbon...'s fist ;P_


	8. Chapter Seven

_A/N: Soooo... I found this chapter difficult to plow through because there were too many variables! Finally finished, and I confess to you now: I edited out the nose punch - sorry! Still, a bit of confrontation is exciting! Nothing more to say, just a bit of bad language used in this chap. Enjoy the read!_

**Chapter Seven**

Lisbon walked with purpose, a mission in mind, on her way from the car to her front door. She'd waited all day to do this, and now, as dusk set in, she could feel the fury getting an unbelievable grip on her mind. She knew she should allow Jane a chance to explain but she felt that his excuse of an explanation, whatever he chose it to be, would come as no surprise to her. She compartmentalised her emotions from her instinct - as both were battling for power over her brain - and slotted the key into the lock. Of course, she had no idea that earlier that day, as she was making plans for a rare, romantic outing with her fiancé, Jane had been snooping around her home, sifting through cabinets and rummaging in drawers. Gosh! She couldn't even be sure he was in DC!

Matt's role in the 'bust' was simply helping Teresa figure out the most effective time to catch Jane in the act. She had guessed he'd followed her home from work the previous night, it wouldn't have been difficult, and she solely relied on him reappearing outside her home tonight for her to catch his soon-to-be-sorry arse. As she discarded her jacket, she tried to distract herself with considerations of her evening attire. Lenny's wasn't _close _to intriguing any A-list celebrities, but neither was it a public house where denim, in any form, was a necessary element of the dress code. She'd not touched a single frock since she'd hung them in the wardrobe after moving, an occasion rarely presenting itself. And if it had, work or tiredness swooped in to preempt it.

She heard Marcus arrive home as she was towelling herself after her brief shower. He ascended the stairs and knocked on the bathroom door before entering.

"Hi, Sweetheart," he said, walking over to where she was drying her leg, propped on the toilet lid, and kissing her damp cheek, "still on for tonight?"

"Definitely," she said, turning her attention to him as she replaced her foot on the floor. She caught him looking at her breasts that were tightly strapped to her body by the towel wrap and she took a step closer to him. She placed her palms against his chest then ran over the crisp whiteness of his cotton shirt to clasp onto the lapels of his suit jacket. He trailed the backs of his fingers up her arms and gently pulled her closer, pecking her forehead then bending to kiss her moistened, shell-pink lips.

"When's the table booked for?" she murmured against his mouth, giving him no time to reply as she sealed the gap between them.

He broke away, "We have time."

She pulled back and found his hand then led the way to their bedroom.

* * *

Jane sat in his rental car at the end of Teresa's street. He'd managed to sneak out of the house after Pike had left, fleeing the scene without snooping any further. The close shave dropping the realisation of what he was doing straight onto his weakening shoulders; he wasn't sure how much more loss and self hatred he could take.

He'd simply sat in the car for several hours after he'd left their house. He'd almost fired up the engine and gone back to Austin. How could he be doing this? How did he not feel guilt for, what most would class as... _stalking_? He didn't deserve her, he didn't deserve a second chance. He'd told her he wanted her to be happy, and she wouldn't be if she got lumbered with him, not to mention the abundance of personal baggage that was strewn in to tie up the package deal.

He saw her arrive home, then Pike shortly behind. Jane slotted the key into the ignition, starting up the engine and casually pulled out onto the road. He'd have a meal, the final thing on his agenda for this absurd crackup.

Patrick waltzed into the restaurant, his usual flare igniting each step with the showman façade desperately clinging to his face. The waiter greeted him and Jane requested the table in the far corner, tucked in beside a window. The booth provided the solitude he required and would conceal him well without creating an obstacle. From the end of the curved bench he had a reasonably clear view across the interior of the restaurant to the raised seating area that stretched along the opposite wall. Waist high, wooden partitioning screens potted with tall leafy plants provided privacy for the diners but couldn't stop the odd preying eye, and the elevated platform where he sat contributed to his advantage.

He ordered a drink and starter to soothe the hollow ache in his stomach and participated in the lonesome activity of people watching. He was there a little under an hour before Teresa and Pike walked in, hand in hand. His eyes were immediately drawn to her outfit of a fitting cropped dress, revealing an enticing set of legs, and a golden tinted necklace that embellished her viridescent eyes. He was glad he decided on dinner first, if that's the last image he'd have of her!

He observed their content conversation whilst they waited to be seated and he paid fussy attention to Lisbon's demeanor; Her expression, of which he found no cracks bearing the truth; her posture, one of confidence; her reaction when Pike leant down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips... He was confounded by the naturality as she slipped an arm lovingly around Marcus' waist. They were shown to their table beside a tall leafy plant, not looming but providing privacy, and they took their seats. Jane could make out enough of Teresa's visage between leaves to get somewhat of an accurate reading on her state of mind. All he'd do now is wait until the masquerade splintered.

* * *

They'd only just made their reservation in time after their bout of overdue lovemaking. The clicheic rush of redressing and wobbling mid-stride to slip on a heel providing a rupture of teenage giggles in the car. The thought that Jane could be eyeing her across the room was instantly pushed to the back of her mind when she realised how cheerful she felt; surely he couldn't cope with the genuine displays of affection?

She briefly scanned the restaurant but saw nothing suspicious; nothing… _Jane_. The couple sat studying the menu and discussing the day they'd both endured, Lisbon skipping over anything related to her obnoxious ex-consultant. Her cell rang from the clutch she'd placed on the table and she threw an apologetic glance at Marcus as she answered the call.

"Lisbon," she said as she stood up. She held a finger to her partner, letting him know she'd be one minute. "Kim, hi!"

She stepped under the shelter outside as it began to sprinkle a fine rain across the street lit parking lot. Dusk was sweeping through the city.

"So? How is it in DC?" Fischer asked after brief pleasantries.

"DC is good. The team here has nothing on you all back in Texas, however!"

"I'm sure you'll whip them into shape."

"I doubt it. Listen, can I call you back some other time?"

"Yes, of course! Sorry, I didn't realise you were busy."

"No problem, speak to you soon." She dialled off and spun around to head back inside when her subconscious automatically snapped onto something, alerting her. She swivelled on her heel to see what it was that'd caught her attention. That all too familiar cluster of sweeping curls and elegant blond wisps peeped over the top of a booth. She stared harder at the window, wondering if the glass had distorted her view. But no matter how long she gaped or from what angle she stood, it was unmistakably Patrick Jane. Her fear caused her uncertainty, so she gingerly stepped inside the restaurant again and glanced toward the booth… Indeed, sat there was the person she was hoping it wouldn't be, taking a swig from his glass. Without consideration she stormed up the shallow steps and along the platform to his booth. His shock as she arrived beside him made him stumble as she seized his arm and forcefully dragged him out of the cozy hub and into the chilled evening air. She pushed him in front of her and shoved at his chest.

"What the _hell _are you doing here?!" She exclaimed. He muttered helplessly and searched for a reasonable explanation. "What? You decided to take up stalking now?"

"No."

"You're just on a holiday?" she accused sarcastically. "Oh, wait. I'm sorry, you're visiting your carnie friends in Cali. Made a bit of a wrong turn somewhere!"

"Lisbon, let me-"

"Explain? You want me to give you time to explain?!" The guilt on his face only urged her into an even bigger pit of anger.

"Yes, please... "

"You know what Jane. I don't have time for your bullshit!"

"Maybe so, Teresa. But you need to hear my side."

She threateningly took a step closer to him, glaring - boring - into his eyes. "I don't need to do _anything _you say," she muttered, bitterness puncturing his heart with each syllable. "I gave up your crap to move here, I wish I'd done it years ago. No more pain, heartache and stress. I am _happy _with my life now!"

He bowed his head as he listened to her words. The shameful truth of his acts from day one.

"I meant everything I said," he broached.

"Me too."

"You were watching the world through rose tinted glasses, Teresa. I know that you've now seen the cost happiness comes at with Pike."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jane. Leave, don't come back." She turned her back on him and walked away.

"Teresa!" He called after her, to no avail. He jogged up to her and spun her around.

"Get your hands off!"

"I'm sorry," he backed down. "Teresa, _please_. Take a step back and review your new life."

She brushed the idea away with a shake of her head and collected herself before going back inside.

* * *

As usual Jane's frustration overpowered reason as he was left standing alone in the drizzle. He looked in at the happy diners. It appeared no one had seen the showdown, or hadn't taken interest. He watched as Lisbon returned to her seat and leant across the table to share a fleeting kiss with her fiancé. Patrick was enraged as he saw the smug smile grow on Pike's face. His fists clenched in fury, Jane shoved open the glass door of Lenny's and marched toward the sniggering jackass...


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

"Ugh... Jane?" Pike greeted, surprised, as Patrick walked toward him. Lisbon spun in her seat as a streak of adrenaline passed through her abdomen. _What the hell was he doing now?! _

"Pike," he replied.

Marcus' eyes narrowed with suspicion, "Is… Is everything alright?"

"I would say everything's not alright, but Teresa wouldn't be too happy with that."

Pike glanced across the table at his partner with a questioning gaze. "Did you invite him, Teresa?"

"Me?" she exclaimed, covering her bubbling anger with a sheet of puzzlement. "Why would I do that?"

"Oh come on, Lisbon. Don't pretend like you're shocked! Surely you haven't forgotten the conversation we just had already?"

She shot up so she was stood beside him. "You better shut up or you're going to regret doing this."

"What he's saying is true then?" Marcus asked.

"Most certainly is," Jane replied. "We were planning to run away together-"

Before he could finish cranking up Pike's level of irritation, Lisbon's had apparently reached full capacity as she swung her rock-hard fist into the swift curve of his nose. He stumbled back, bumping into a diner's chair, causing more disruption to the surrounding customers. He nursed his throbbing nose by clasping it in his hand, a trickle of crimson seeping through his fingers. The audience watched as silence washed across the restaurant. Staff headed over to resolve the issue but Lisbon held a hand up to them.

"Let's take this outside," she told her company, leaving before they could reply. Marcus filtered a few notes from his wallet and left them on the table before trailing behind. Jane dragged his feet whilst clutching his nose, battling the evil glares from Pike with his own piercing scowl. They abruptly stopped when a pissed off Lisbon, to say the least, was stood opposite them in the parking lot, arms crossed, face a mask of fury. Silence hung heavy amongst them. Teresa refused to look at either of them directly, her stubbornness coming into play, she wasn't going to speak first.

Pike cleared his throat, "What was he talking about?"

"Crap. He was talking crap," she replied. Jane opened his mouth to say something but Lisbon hushed him with a hissed warning.

"You were going to leave me?" Pike murmured.

"No, he was just winding you up. He has a _twisted _sense of humour."

"Am I not even allowed to defend myself?" Patrick quipped.

Seeing Lisbon's rage surge, Marcus butted in, "Let's go home." He gingerly approached her and slid a comforting arm around her waist. She glared at Jane before succumbing to Pike's goodnatured attempts and walked to the car. Her fiancé held the door open for her and she began to get in, casting a stern, icey cold look over her shoulder. Jane watched on as Marcus, too, got into the car.

Teresa knew that they'd pressed the pause button, this most certainly wasn't the end. They sat in the car in silence as Pike drove them across town, the occasional clicking of the blinkers cracking through the reticence. The energy of unsaid questions flickered and buzzed between them, only causing his grip on the wheel to tighten.

When they arrived home the tension simply had more space to expand and fill. Marcus went straight to the kitchen and poured them each a generous glass of wine.

"It seems that we can't catch a break," he said drily. She moodily swooped up her glass and headed for the living room, not even acknowledging his attempt at humour. "You should call him."

She stopped at that, turning to see if he was being genuine. "Don't tell me you're serious?!"

He held up his hands in defense, coming to sit in the armchair opposite her.

"He's evidently upset over something."

She snorted with derision; she knew exactly what. "I've moved on. He'll need to find someone else's shoulder to cry on."

"That doesn't sound very saintly, Teresa."

"Yeah, well, my saintly days are over… Why are you encouraging this?"

"Because I know how close you two were. I know that you're loyal, to both him and myself." He looked up from the rich, garnet colored wine in his glass and stared at her. Teresa couldn't be sure if it was a look of desperation, for his words to be true, or one of faith and trust. "No matter what he said to you in that conversation you both had earlier," he held up his hand to stop her protest, "you should hear the whole story."

"What if I don't need to hear anymore? What if I want nothing more to do with his problems?"

He tilted his head in amusement, quirking an eyebrow. "I think the bond you've created through law breaking and off the record stings won't allow you to back down now."

She smirked, a hint of melancholy gleaming in her eyes.

"Call him. Ask him over. Talk. I'll make myself scarce."

"Why are you doing this? What's he done to deserve it?"

He leant forward slightly, "It's called being a gentleman."

"Right," she smiled sarcastically, earning a dazzling one back. He got up and went to the kitchen as she slid her phone from her purse. Sighing deeply as she brought up Jane's number she anxiously paced around the room, bringing her cell to her ear as the dialling tones echoed down the line.

"Lisbon?" He answered, incredulously, sounding a little dreary.

"Yeah, it's me."

"I… I'm sorry," he began.

She cut in, "Did you want to come over?"

"To your place?"

"I believe you know where it is."

There was a brief moment of eery silence before he responded with suspicion heavy in his voice. "What's going on?"

"I think we can both agree that a discussion is needed."

"Yes, I suppose so…"

"Marcus won't be there. Just you and me," she apprehensively added.

"Okay… Well… I will be round in a bit."

Getting his word of attendance was all she needed. She ended the call and faced Marcus where he was stood preparing food.

"He's coming over soon," she informed him.

"Alright. I'm making a sandwich, do you want me to prepare anything for you?"

"He'll probably want something, I'll eat with him later."

Marcus gave an anxious smile and continued slicing tomato. He wasn't sure if he should be regretting encouraging the two of them to talk. He knew how their relationship sent sparks bouncing off surrounding walls; how they worked harmoniously in their completely unethical ways… _Okay, harmoniously may be a slight give-or-take, _he thought, _but there's always a mystic glimmer of excitement in her eyes_; one that he'd not seen since his first case with Abbott's team. He remembered the bold numbers Patrick had chosen to embellish Teresa's already voluptuous body. The dresses that clinged to her slim waistline and frilled out to rest halfway up her thigh. Her slim, shapely legs prominent with the heels she wore.

He awkwardly kept his plate of sandwiches low as he exited the room, his manlihood aching with the images he'd recalled. He'd eat with a view of the rooftops he'd decided, heading up to the little balcony that projected from the third floor of their home.

Jane pulled up outside Lisbon's house, closer than he'd ever dared park on his previous visits. He wasn't entirely sure of the reasoning behind this meeting. He didn't know why she had forgiven him at all, let alone so quickly. With nausea twisting through his gut he rapped on the door with the brass knocker. He didn't know what he expected, but seeing her earnest yet gentle expression as she answered the door made his breath catch in his throat. It was like gazing at the old Lisbon, _his_ Lisbon.

They stood calmly, uncertainly, before one another. He noticed she found it difficult to look at him directly, either watching her socked feet or staring over his shoulder. He understood.

She eventually stood aside, allowing him in. He followed her through to the living room and sat in the armchair as she took the couch.

"Thank you," he said, startling her with the sound of his voice. Seeing her confusion he went on, "first for seeing me, giving me a chance and secondly," he broached carefully, "for changing out of that very attractive frock you were in earlier."

She rolled her eyes. She'd changed from her dress into jeans and a t-shirt for her benefit, rather than his. They sat quietly, not knowing where to start.

"How long are you in DC?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Indefinitely."

She gave a nod, regarding his smooth choice of word.

"Have you met my replacement yet?"

He thought for a few seconds before responding, "Uh, yes… she seems pleasant enough."

"Good."

"She's on trial for the moment…" He sat patiently, hoping she'd catch on to his subtle invitation to return with him to Austin.

"I'm sure she's got plenty of potential, Jane."

_Ah, she had caught on. _She knew he was trying to give her a reason to go back with him. One that could aid in getting their relationship on track again. Get it past platonic and onto something more… But her loyalties now stood with Marcus.

"Why can't you let me be happy?" She asked, finally looking up at him. She could see the internal battle he was fighting, could hear the faint whispers of words he feared to say aloud roll from his tongue with each gentle breath. "Just talk to me," she urged.

His eyes sought comfort from hers and, as always, she provided. A warmth pooled, caged, in her irises and for the first time since she'd argued with him through the sturdy door at the Blue Bird, he saw a gleam of recognition in her eyes. He realised that the thing hurting him the most during their upset was how she looked at him. As if… she no longer knew or understood the man that had so gratefully hugged her the day after their acquaintance, their first case as partners.

"Teresa…" he began. Her eyes bored deeper into his, reassuring and pleading. "I don't know what to tell you…"

"Tell me."

He sighed and looked away, rubbing his palms together anxiously in his lap. Her hands nestled over his knuckles as his eyes flicked back to her face. Her touch was triggering flames under his skin, sparks shooting through his wrists and up his arms.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he murmured, watching her thumbs stroke along the side of his hands.

"I don't care. I trust you, Jane. No matter what… _stuff _has gone on, and no matter how angry I appeared, I still trust you. Of course I do."

A saddened smile flit across his features and he softly slid his hands to cup hers.

"I know my… uh… _timing _with a certain confession wasn't the best. Not only did it put you in an awkward situation, it also put our friendship, our partnership, in one. I came here to try and fix anything I could. I knew I'd messed up. When I saw you with him, with Pike, I struggled to make sense of _many _thoughts. I'm sorry."

She listened carefully whilst he said as much as he could. He was genuine and so, too, was the guilt inside of her…

"What thoughts?"

He trained his eyes back on her viridescent jewels, her lashes thick and long, framing her eyes and making the color pop.

"Are you sure you want to know?" She heard the seriousness in the crisp tones of his voice, and nodded. "Very well… I struggled to comprehend why you left. You and I, we had a strong relationship, we knew each other inside out, upside down. We spent more time together than apart in recent years. But you left me for someone you'd known for mere months. I understand he was offering you a relationship, one of romance… but couldn't you have found that and still stuck around? Why did you leave me, leave everything and everyone you know, for a man whose life you'd _just _entered, who had _just _entered yours?"

Teresa leant back and withdrew her hands from his grasp, slipping them between her knees.

"I needed a chance at a life, Jane."

"And you could've had one back home!" He gently beseeched.

"You were a bit late at offering."

His attention was snapped to her wholly then. _Did she mean that they could've had a life together? _A stunned silence lingered between them before he gingerly pressed further.

"It's never too late, Teresa."

"It can be, and it is…"


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

_A/N: So… after what? A year or something? I thought I'd give it another go… Please note I've altered the ending of the last chapter since I originally posted it. Forgive me for any inconsistencies. I tried but no doubt some things slipped by me__._

Regret and remorse were roaring beneath the unshed tears in her eyes.

"Are you truly happy here? With this man, this life?"

Her head was bowed as she considered his words. She could be happy here. But she could be happy anywhere she wanted to be. Contentment, _elation_, was rare to come by and yet she'd walked away from the one thing that had struck her miserable days with a bolt of joy.

"I need to give myself a chance."

Now it's him that looked helplessly into his lap. If there ever was someone who could make you feel bad for something you didn't even do, it was Jane. So, as Lisbon gazed across at the man whom she'd grown too fond of, she noted the scruffy stubble lining his jaw, the carefree sweep of curls across his forehead, the disheveled crumpling of his shirt at his waist. She saw the man he'd once been. The one that had rocked up, demanding he spoke to the chief. His closed off stature and crippling frame. If it was possible to hear a heart break, that's the sound that would crack through the silence between them now.

"Why don't I arrange a plane ticket for you? To take you home," she encouraged softly.

"No," he stuttered out. "I have my Airstream."

She leaned over and squeezed his knee before lifting herself out of the dipping cushions.

"Can I offer you something to eat, then?"

"That won't be necessary," he stated after clearing his throat and shaking himself from the stupor he'd been in. He, too, then got to his feet, straightened his jacket, then headed to the door of the living room. Seeing his leave, Teresa trotted after him from the kitchen. She caught him before he reached the front door and called after him. He paused then turned round to face her.

"Look after yourself, okay?" she ordered. She took a few steps towards him and hesitantly slipped her arms around his chest. He didn't react for a couple of seconds, merely stood there, limp; the pain and fear and melancholy tearing at his throbbing heart already too much. But this felt like a goodbye and it maddened him. His rage was purely at himself, for his foolishness and sickening hope. He should never have risked losing such a beautiful, happy person for his own ego and pride. He was too afraid of rejection and he still kicked himself that he'd waited so long; because, after all, it was his own dallying that caused his fear to spin true.

He halfheartedly held her elbow which was her cue to pull away. She looked hurt, _well that makes two of us_, he thought. He didn't say anything more, just turned away, opened the door, and walked into the beckoning eeriness of the night.

She stayed, planted to her door mat as she watched him leave. Then, she padded into the house and quietly shut the door.

It was dark and he desperately wanted the lumpy padding of his bed in the Airstream but it would be a good couple of hours until he'd get back to where he'd left it. So he decided a rather bad decision.

To go to a bar.

If his hope and then closure couldn't tape together his battered heart, then maybe the brutal burn of alcohol in his throat would distract him from his heartbreak. He drove aimlessly down roads, signalling to turn onto streets whose destinations were unknown to him. He journeyed until the quintessential luminosity of an _Open _sign glared up ahead.

He walked into the somewhat ramshackle building, a modern day inn it said. He managed to sink into the worn padding of a barstool, instantly bringing his battered shoes to rest on the rusting brass bar running along the bottom of the bar.

"What can I get you, Sir?" a woman in a checkered shirt hollered from where she squatted to refill one of the glass-fronted refrigerators behind the counter.

"You're an inn. Have you got a room for a lone traveller like me?" he chuckled, although there was no humor in what he had said.

"I'm sure we can sort you out with something."

"Fantastic. Then I shall have a room and a glass of your finest scotch."

He'll start classy and expensive, then sink lower down the hierarchy of alcoholic beverages the more his senses stray with the intake.

By the time it reaches eleven-fifteen he's wavering dangerously close to delirium as he slouches at the bar.

"Come on, Sunshine, we're calling it a night."

"For who now? You or me?"

"Both. Can you manage getting the key into the lock?" the bartender asked as she slid a key with red string attached towards him.

"Why don't you escort me?"

"Because men pissed off their rockers are not the sort I jump into bed with. Now scoot!"

"Okay, okay," he slurred. He downed the last of the drink in his glass, too drunk to even recall what it was he'd ordered, and heaved himself upright whilst letting his feet settle on the floor. The woman was stood holding the door open for him, waiting, this certainly wasn't her first stint dealing with a man whose confidence was teased out of the bottom of a bottle. He staggered towards her, blinking slowly as he tried to align his vision. When he reached her, he leant on the doorframe and promptly began dry heaving. With her nose wrinkled in disgust she placed a hand on his back and guided him outside.

"I'm not having you wreck my carpet, either you puke out here and sober up or I call someone for you?"

He withdrew his cell from his pocket as he bent over, his arm outstretched using the wall as support, then threw it to her open palm.

"Teresa," is all he said before an unappealing splatter echoed down the street.

Teresa's lying in bed, Marcus sat beside her reading the book he's been trying to finish since she met him. _Game of Thrones_ she thought he'd once told her, if she remembered correctly. Suddenly her phone rang and she huffed out a breath, could she not have one night's sleep without work interrupting? She reached across to retrieve it from the bedside table and saw that it wasn't work calling. Instead it was Jane's caller I.D. gracing her screen. She declines the call knowing that it'd likely be a last minute check on her not joining him on his trip back to Austin.

"You not answering that?" her fiancé asked.

"Cold call," she shrugged back in response. She lay there for a brief moment, considering the chance that Jane's still in Washington and hasn't yet made any effort to leave. Then her phone rang again. Patrick Jane flickering up at her on the screen.

She pushed herself up and brought the phone to her ear, "You change your mind on that plane ticket?" She questioned.

"Teresa? Hi, this is Charlotte from the Blue Lantern Inn, Washington D.C. I have a man here who told me to call you."

"Oh. Patrick Jane?" Hearing this name leave Lisbon's lips so easily Pike leant over to catch her gaze, sending her a puzzled look. She simply got up and walked through their bedroom door to the landing.

"Yes, at least that's the name he registered with. Any chance you could come pick him up?"

"Why?"

"Those retching sounds in the background aren't my latest mixtape," the woman replied sarcastically.

"He's drunk?"

"Completely off his head."

"Where did you say you were again?"

The lady on the other end went on to describe her location and Lisbon reassured her that she could get there within the half hour. Breaking a few speed limits and hoping to avoid traffic. Which shouldn't be an issue at this time, although it's Washington D.C. who knew?

"I've got to go pick Jane up," she informed Marcus upon re-entering their room. She went to her drawers and yanked on a pair of jeans along with a jacket, zipping it up over her vest top she'd worn to bed.

"Why?"

"He's in a bad way. Who else is going to help him?"

"He's probably doing this to gain some extra time with you. Heck he could be faking!"

She cast an incredulous look over her shoulder. "I'm going, no matter what his intentions. And he can have the couch if he needs it. But I'm not abandoning him here, not now." She finished fastening her shoes and got up off the bed. "I'll see you," she said. Not specifying a time because, as of late, they've been called into work at all hours.

With that, she left, leaving a slightly peeved Marcus behind.

Little did they know that he had a right to be worried…


End file.
